Flames
by HavenGray
Summary: Alisa finds herself in a bind. Someone burned her flat down, and she had no one to help her... Except her old friend John Watson. OC/Sherlock
1. Flames

**A/N: I know I should be working on my Doctor Who Fanfiction, but while I was at my dads, I got really bored and started writing this. The chapters will be shorter in this because I have noticed that if I write in smaller amounts then I will continue on with the story. I might even shorten the length of my Doctor Who chapters.**

**So I have up to chapter 8 written down, and I am working on Chapter 9. i would like it if you would help me get out of this writer's block I have. Once I post the others you can help me.**

**I would love it if you would review your thoughts on this Fanfiction, I would love it! And I also write more if i have fans. So if you are a fan then please don't hesitate to tell me!**

**I also think chapter 1 is the shortest chapter...**

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Walking home wasn't much of a scary thing for me. I knew every place in London, and almost every person. I also had pepper spray and a small knife in my purse.

The night was warm, but my arms involuntarily hugged my chest, it was quiet, except for a few taxis, which were probably carrying drunk passengers who didn't want to get caught being drunk. A few of then beeped at me as I crossed the streets, but I didn't care, and just kept walking like nothing happened.

My long red hair billowed around me as I walked, which gave my head the looking fire effect. My ice-blue eyes were wide open, as to see better in the dark.

I was almost home. I only has a few more streets to cross before I got to my flat.

That's when I smelled the smoke.

A fire truck rushed past me. It was on it's way to my street. I began to panic, and started running. Normally I would have taken the long way as to enjoy this lovely night, but I skipped over fences, and raced through people's yards to get to my flat quicker.

My heart was racing. My hair was flying around me like a red cape. My lungs burned, but I kept running. The smoke was getting stronger.

I stopped dead in my tracks.

My flat.

My home.

Was burning.


	2. Alisa Slaughter

I ran closer. All of my things… All of my memories, all of the hard work to put my flat together was all ruined now.

Everything burned.

I walked over to one of the fire officers.

"What happened to my flat?" I asked. My eyes began to water, and not only from the smoke.

"We don't know yet, ma'am. But to my personal experience this doesn't look like an accident. We have a fire tracking expert on his way right now, so he can tell how this happened," He said.

I turned my gaze back to the huge fire. A few tears ran down my cheeks.

"Hey, don't worry. We saved a few things," The man said.

I looked at him, a but of hope in my heart.

"What did you save?" I asked.

"We got a nice looking lap top, still in it's case. A photo album, and a cat," He said.

"Can you take me to them?"

The fire officer nodded and placed his hand on my shoulder to guide me towards my things.

"Your cat isn't doing too well thought. We sent hom to the animal hospital. He breathed in a lot of smoke," he said.

My heart felt like it stopped for a moment. I had Pluto since I was a freshman in high school. That was nearly nine years ago. But he was a strong cat.

"I hope he will live," I said in a low voice.

The man only nodded.

One of the nurses noticed me and walked over.

"Excuse me, ma'am, but what is your name?" She asked.

"My name is Alisa Slaughter," I said. My voice was cracking. The smoke was disappearing, but it still left a burning sensation in my throat.

"So you are the owner of this flat?" the nurse asked.

I looked at the dying fire.

"I was."


	3. Belongings

The nurse looked at me with sympathy.

"We are sorry," She said. She then felt my head. "You might be in shock."

She reached in the back of a near by ambulance and pulled an orange blanket out. She unfolded it, and draped it around my shoulders.

"There you are," She said, patting my shoulder.

I smiled to show my appreciation.

"Hey, Beth," the fire officer said to the nurse. "Can you take Alisa to her stuff we managed to save before it was destroyed?"

"Sure, Steve," Beth said, and she guided me- finally- to my stuff.

"Thank you," I said after a while.

"Oh! You're welcome! This is what we do after all," She chirped.

I nodded and looked at my belongings.

I was happy I hadn't opened my lap top yet. The cords would have been everywhere. Since I didn't open it all of the cords were packed neatly inside, along with the lap top.

The photo album looked a bit smoky, but the pictures looked fine. I didn't go through them all, I would do that later.

The fire officer named Steve walked over. "The fire tracker is here. He can check out your flat now that the fire has been put out," he said.

I nodded to him. "I hope he finds out what happened,"

"I do, too, but until he does, Beth will take you to sit down," Steve said, looking to Beth.

As if it was her queue, Beth placed her hand on my shoulder to guide me back to the ambulance.

I sat down in the open back, and closed my eyes for a moment.


	4. A Place to Stay

About five minutes later the fire tracker came up to me, saying my name.

He was on the chubby side; had a beer belly. He had black hair which was balding. His eyes looked dark in the flashing lights of the fire truck, ambulance, and cop cars. He appeared to be sober, which was good.

"Alisa, I have looked over the remains of your flat," He started. "It was definitely not an accident. Someone carefully planned this."

My mouth parted in confused astonishment.

"Why would anyone plan such a thing like this? I haven't done anything to cross anyone!" I asked, tears running from my eyes again.

"Hey, this could have just been a random hit from some delinquent kids." the man said. "But if you think you might know who it may be, give me a call," He handed a card to me with his name and personal number.

Luckily I brought my phone, and charger with me to work. My phone was an important part to my life. I always had it with me. It has so many important things on it. Many contacts, pictures, notes. Even little things to amuse me, like games.

"Okay, I will," I said. I put the card in a random page in my album, so as not to loose it.

He nodded, the same look of sympathy in his eyes as the nurse.

"Do you have a place to stay tonight?" he asked me.

I glanced at his left hand. He was married. The ring wasn't on his finger, but there was a recent tan line. He was either unhappily married or he just wanted to get lucky for the night. Obviously his wife wasn't in town.

"I think I do," I said with a small smile.

He looked a bit disappointed, but he nodded anyway.

"That's good. Hey, remember to call me if you think of anything," he said. He patted my knee. "I hope you feel better," then he walked away.

I sighed.

Steve walked up with a few papers in his hand.

"You'll need to fill these papers out, Ms. Slaughter," he said. Then he made a weird face. "Alisa Slaughter is your real name?" he asked.

I nodded, absent at mind, and took the papers from him. He grabbed a pen from his pocket and handed it to me.

I filled out the papers and gave them back to Steve. He took them, wished me a good night, and walked to his fire truck.

I sighed again, then pulled my phone out. I dialed a number I haven't dialed in a long time.

It started ringing.

It continued to ring.

He finally answered.

"Hey, John, It's Alisa. I have some bad news, and I need a place to stay…"


	5. John Watson

John said he would pick me up at my flat. Well the place where my flat used to be.

Beth checked my vital sighs to see if I was still in shock. She gave me a bottled water, and left. She let me keep the orange blanket.

About fifteen minutes past ten a taxi pulled up. John rushed out of it, and pulled me into a big hug.

"I am so sorry this was the way we had to see each other again," he said.

"I know, John. You was the only person I trusted to call." I said, hugging him tightly.

He pulled away to look at me. "You must be cold," he said.

I noticed that I was shivering. It had gotten cold since I got out of work.

"Yeah, I guess," I said, my teeth chattering a bit.

The taxi honked it's horn.

"Come on. Let's get you to my flat," he said and ushered me into the taxi.

"Wait! I need to get my things," I said. I grabbed my photo album. John spotted my lap top and grabbed that.

Then I got in the taxi. I didn't buckle in, I felt to lazy to.

"221 Baker Street," John said to the driver as he closed the taxi door.

"Do you still live alone?" I asked, feeling the taxi move.

He looked at me, offense in his eyes.

"No. I live with someone," he replied.

"Well, who do you live with?" I asked.

John smiled then.

"I live with Sherlock Holmes."


	6. 221 Baker Street

"Who is Sherlock Holmes?" I asked.

He looked at me with a bit of a shocked expression.

"Sherlock Holmes? The world's only consulting detective?" He said.

"That sounds like a cool job, but I still don't know who he is…"

"Do you even watch the news?" he asked.

I shook my head. "The news is boring."

"What about my blog?" he said. "Do you read that?"

"You still have that old blog?" I laughed.

"Of course I do!" John retorted.

"Well now that I know you still have it I will read it. But not tonight. I just need a good nights rest." I said.

"I understand," he said quietly. "So where do you work?"

"A small food market a little ways down town."

"That's good. I work at the Hospital." he said.

"Still a doctor?"

"Still a doctor."

I smiled an yawned.

"You can have my room tonight. I'll sleep on the couch," John said suddenly.

"No, I can sleep on the couch. No worries," I replied.

"Look, you have just been through a traumatic experi-"

"But I am fine. I'm still alive, John. I can sleep on the couch."

"Fine. But if you wake up with a nightmare you are going straight to my bed, and I'll go to the couch."

I thought about that.

"How is a bed going to rid me of nightmares?" I asked.

John looked confused.

"I don't know," John said truthfully.

I giggled.

"But still, if you have a nightmare the bed might make you sleep better," he said.

"Fine, if I have a nightmare I'll sleep in your bed."

"Good."

It was silent for a few minutes.

Then the Taxi stopped.

"We're here," John said. He got out and helped me out.

"221 Baker Street."


End file.
